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Monday, October 25, 2010

Return Of The Blogging Jedi

So last week I felt a tremor in the Force; you know that weird mystical energy that binds all blogs together, that flows through and around them? It’s called the internet or something...

Anyway, it gave me bad dreams, nightmares, a strange prescience of the blogging world that is to come. My master told me to quieten my mind and accept what I saw, to let go of my blogging attachments. “The Future it is that you see in your mind. Your fears let go of you must. In the Force trust you may.”

I told him to go and get stuffed. I don’t know about you but I don’t take orders or advice from someone who looks like a talking sprout and talks like a Norwegian exchange student.

It was possibly the worst move I ever made. I can see that now.

I was wholly unprepared for what happened next.

Out of the technological darkness came a dark shape. All in black. A cape. A mask. That anonymous heavy breathing that I normally only hear on the phone at 4am in the morning. We fought. Our light sabers clashing and humming like vibrators at a Hugh Hefner private video party.

I confess, I got cocky. I thought I was already a Jedi and could do anything, that I was unassailable. But I slipped. I fell. I found myself on my butt, on a gantry suspended thousands of feet above a man-made electronic chasm.

A black gloved hand reached out to me.

“Steve, Steve, the blogging Force is strong in you. Join with me and we can overthrow the rulers of the bloggosphere.”

“No!” I cried. “I’ll never join you!” I tried to raise my vibrator saber again but the battery was flat.

The mask spoke again. “Obi Wan never told you the truth about the blogging world...”

“He told me enough!” I snarled. “He said that you corrupted all the mummy bloggers! That you destroyed them all!”

I hurled myself screaming and nauseous from the gantry and after a fall of what seemed like aeons I found myself back in the garbage dump where I’d originally started – surrounded by all the usual stuff I write about: crap times at work, poor finances, all the women I fancy off the telly and all the drunks and oddballs of Leamington Spa.

And a cat in hell’s chance of ever being offered the chance to endorse the latest Nestle breast pump or Palitoy home liposuction kit.

Welcome home! Feel you missed an opportunity for a gratuitous Carrie Fisher pic, so you are clearly not up to full steam. Close your eyes and feel the force. Hands down.... I said force! Ps I dream of being asked to so a breast pump review, might spoof one for the hell of it ;0)

Stevie babe, I am going to get you an honorary Vegemite Vixen t-shirt made up. The words on the front and back will be sufficient to keep you on level footing and not be swayed by silly idiocies in the wider 'mummy' blogging community.

LCM x

p.s. and in case you were wondering, the front says "Drink now, arse later", and the back "Drunk now, arse here" with an arrow pointing in the appropriate direction.

LCM: thank you from the heart, I feel truly honoured and will hold you to that. It reminds me of a T-shirt I often dreamed of having made in my twenties: front - "instant arsehole just add T-shirt"; back - "See?"

Steve, you had us worried there for a moment, falling into that chasm... good to know it only led back to your starting point in Leamington. I have to admit you've aroused my curiosity now about some of the finer and more subtle points of British geography, as related to whatever a "chav" is, but I'm sure a litte searching on that dark cloak, errr, web, will clue me in and eradicate my ignorance in that domain... out of all negative situations usually come something positive...

Oh my goodness, I just typed in "Chatham Chav" on Google, and very quickly got to this site :

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Chatham%20Girls

Not pretty... I think you better go underground for a few months until this blows over...

Owen: always make sure you carry a packet of Marlboroughs with you to throw to any feral packs of chavs you come across in the same way you'd throw a steak chop at a ferocious dog to distract it. It works for me every time. ;-)

Lord Vader, master of the dark arts, sent Jabbina the Pizza Hut to lure you into her evil web and suck the juices from your body. Be grateful that you escaped with a few bites and most of your juices unsucked.

Crikey Steve......had I known all this mularkey was going on I would have popped in to give you a quick supportive hug when I was parked outside your place of the work the other day....well either that or a firm handshake....

Oh Great Jedi Steve, it is so good to have you back. And by the way, there may be forces of evil afoot, but WE got your back. (U know who I mean.) I'm just sorry I missed the whole spectacle and wasn't around to help when it was all happening.

On a serious note, please know that you are supported here. We adore you!